Age of Ignorance
by VegetandAru
Summary: Perhaps Voldemort was onto something when he wanted to destroy all muggles. After DH there's a new threat to the wizarding world. Spoilers. I HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS IDEA ANYWHERE BEFORE, COMPLETELY ORIGINAL I THINK! Complete
1. Introduction

The first bang shook Hogwarts to its very foundations and one of the Hufflepuffs screamed as it knocked her off her feet and sprawled her across her desk. A pot tumbled off the desk and shattered as it hit the floor.

The second bang made one of the Slytherin girls shriek and she dipped beneath her desk, quickly followed by classmates of both houses. A spray of dirt and ash smashed through a glass wall and those who remained standing were hit straight in the face with it.

"Get down! Everybody get down!" Neville tore off his gloves, fumbled in his pocket for a wand and a second blast of earth and gravel was thrown into the greenhouse. A rock slammed into his head and flung him to the floor, a sickness roiled in his stomach; he fought it away with determination and gripped his wand tighter as his sight wavered and dimmed at the edge of his peripheral.

The very floor of the greenhouse was shivering as though in fright, and plants were falling, pots smashing, second years screaming. Wand in hand, Neville jerked himself upwards with the help of a work bench just as the third and final detonation shattered through the flimsy walls and ceiling and a Giant Flendunp toppled into him. The herbology professor was out before he hit the ground.


	2. Counting the Numbers

There was a hardness to Harry James Potters eyes as he surveyed the ruin that was Hogwarts. Crumbling turrets, smashed greenhouses, some walls were completely toppled and a thick smog filled the air: hot ash on his face. They were still missing people.

As many students, staff members and house elves as could be found were assembled by the dirt strewn lake, some screaming, most crying, all terrified by the destruction of the once noble building. A little girl, only third year by the looks of her, and wearing the remnants of a gryffindor uniform was wailing for her brother, apparently a first year and of the same house, whom had not yet been uncovered from the rubble.

A familiar ginger head stood trembling at Harry's side and, despite wanting to maintain an air of professionalism, he could not help clutching James to his side. Some way off, curled in on himself beneath an old tree was Albus, seemingly still in shock and refusing to be touched.

Neville had been uncovered about an hour ago from the sharp remains of a greenhouse with a class full of thankfully unharmed second years and was now being checked for concussion by the school nurse Madam Tufflin.

Rose was fine and well, Harry's eyes had sought her out as soon as he'd ascertained that his own two were fine. Victoire, and Harry could not help but be proud of her, stood resolutely in the midst of the Ravenclaws with only her white face as a symbol of her distress and a mind to keep the house of the academics calm. She was succeeding too by the looks of it, for they were all sitting in little clumps of blue on the ground their minds quite focussed on the general knowledge test she was endeavouring to quiz them with.

Ron, with Rose hugged to his side was standing with a register and pen counting up wild eyed Slytherins and growing more grim each time a student failed to answer to their name.

As he finished with an answered call of "Mr Lavelle? Has a Charlie Lavelle arrived now?" he trooped back over towards Harry where the two of them exchanged edgy looks and sent the two red heads to go comfort Albus.

"What's it like? How many have we got?"

"Missing 12 Gryffindors and 8 Hufflepuffs, but the losses to Ravenclaw and Slytherin are larger, 32 and 27 unaccounted for respectively. Apparantly they had a joint third year lesson in the divination tower when it collapsed, the professor is missing as well, along with two others, transfiguration and astronomy. Only a handful of house elves are missing though."

"How about the ones that are accounted for?"

"Lots of them are hurt but only 17 of them seem to be in any serious state, most of them were the ones who we found in the dungeons. We were lucky. It could have been far worse."

"Yeh, I know." Blue and green eyes swept over the devastation, more aurors were trudging back and forth, to and from the wreckage of the school, and with a final glance at his two sons to ensure that they were safe and sound, Harry went to join his colleagues in searching for the missing children.


	3. Newspaper

HAVOC AT HOGWARTS: HARRY POTTER SENDS HOUSES HOME!

The brutal attack on Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry of last Thursday afternoon has left students and staff equally distraught.

Harry Potter, head of the Auror division, who personally attended the scene of the crime, has reported that no traces of magical signature can be found at the school at this present time.

However, enquiries into the use of dark magic are being made and until they have been effectively completed Auror Potter has sworn not to let anybody but his select team into the wreckage of the building.

When questioned he replied. "Whatever attack it was, it was clearly powerful enough to break through the wards. Although I doubt that any such spell could be cast by a student or staff member of the late school, I hesitate to allow them back until the culprit has been found, lest there be a repeat of this incident."

When asked if he believed if this was a terror attack by the 'Deatheater' extremist group, Auror Potter replied that he could make no assumptions as of yet and refused to comment any further.

For complete details of the attack on the school please refer to page 6.


	4. Boys and Girls

"Mrs Sulliven?" The woman gave a 'hrm' of acknowledgement in her throat and the boy tipped his head forwards in a bow. "The general just wanted to check the co-ordinates, excuse me miss but there doesn't appear to be anything of any importance there."

"Young man, these are _wizards_ that we are dealing with, perhaps you do not understand the full implications of this just yet but I assure you that my co-ordinates are correct."

Another inclination of his head and a sharp salute and the young man left the room, door slammed behind him.

From her seat Sulliven sneered at the back of the door. Papers littered her desks, notes and numbers and codes and the occasional hand written message sent to her from her husband; these ones said such things as 'Will be home late. Love you. T.'

In the right far hand corner of her desk was a photo of her little ones when they had indeed been little, Ian dressed in blue and Blair in loud red, and beside this was a card drawn by her liberal minded brother for her twelfth birthday some thirty one years ago.

As if on cue, her secretary's voice wafted into the room over an intercom. "Ms Sulliven, your brother's here to see you." Her sneer fell into a grimace and she reached out a slender hand to press the button on her half of the intercom.

"Oh Lord! Send him up then." In the moments it took for the tiny young man to make his way from the lobby to her office she had shuffled her papers and stored them in a draw, then, and this was the most important gesture, she reached out and turned the hand drawn birthday card until its face was to the desk: no longer seen.

_Bam!_

"Ashleigh! What the hell do you think you're doing! Another attack? No! Dear lord have you gone insane!" She ground her jaw and squeezed shut her eyes against the frantic voice and hissed out through her teeth.

"They are nothing's."

"They're wizards, and witches and most critically they are people."

Her skirt swirled about her as she stood and whirled away from him, peering from her high window over grey office blocks in a grey city.

"Of course they are. And animals are people too aren't they dear. That is what your types think isn't it?" The intonations in her voice made it lilting and high pitched with mockery, intending to push him away with her words, she really would hate to have to hurt him.

In the reflection of the glass she saw the slim brunette move next to her and her head snapped down to look at where he's covered her hand then her eyes flickered upwards to meet his: black on black. Hers shocked: amused. His frustrated and proud.

"Ashleigh, please, consider the implications of what you intend to do with starting this war. If this is just another game for you then stop now. I am well aware that I am no match for you but..." He shrugged and retrieved his hand. In her mind Sulliven almost thought she could feel the imprint of his palm and fingers over the back of her hand like a rash and raised it to her chest where she scratched at it absently with bitten nails.

The hard line of chapped lips loosened into a brief smile and the pint sized man leant forwards and kissed her check. "You can't go through with this little girl."

Like a light bulb flicked in her head her eyes filled with all the cruelty her body and mind had capacity for and she wrenched from him at the sound of the nick name with a growl from her throat and she tossed her arms wide and spun back to her chair, taking in everything with the gesture.

"Look at this you stupid man. This - _this _- is the undeniable fruits of war that will go to the victor of any battle, I intend to win this, I am not sharing my Britain with anyone, not wizards not you, you pathetic little reject!" she stopped to draw breath voice rough with anger and she watched a similar coldness dull the gaze of her baby brother.

"I guess we're at logger heads then, again... Good day Ms Sulliven." His fancy Italian boots had he audacity to click loudly on _her_ nice wooden floor. and she gave a roar of anger when he left picked up the face down picture frame and flung it at the opposite wall. The glass smashed and the paper fluttered from its confines and a brightly drawn picture floated to the ground.


	5. Spouses and Similarities

Disclaimer: Any recognisable wizarding characters are obviously not mine but wizarding world extras and any characters from the muggle world are mine, please don't use them.

- - - - -

"Toby!" Sulliven shrieked in laughter as her husband's calloused finger tips scraped up her sides and dug into the ticklish area at the side of her ribs. Her foot kicked out in a knee jerk reaction and another bubble of laughter flitted from her lips and into the small space between her face and his.

His head dipped down and a chaste kiss was pressed to the bridge of her over large nose. The hand that had been torturing her sides stopped its play and slid around her back whilst the other came up to pull her glasses gently off her face and drop them onto the pillow besides them.

The ex-soldier nuzzled into his wife's throat and with a 'mm' of satisfaction then rolled onto his side so he was curled against her. She sighed and propped herself up onto a forearm stroking a hand over the front of his shirt and replacing her glasses over her dark eyes.

"You're a jerk."

"And you're just as ticklish now as you were when we were children. I know your weaknesses Mrs Sulliven." he teased softly, one hand making its journey up the hard curve of a muscled thigh. "Come lie back down Ash." she slapped his hand away and rearranged her skirt to cover herself better.

"I have work."

"It's midnight."

"It's 11:53!" she exclaimed indignantly provoking another laugh from Tobias' lips. He wrenched blankets up to his chin and folded an arm underneath his head, giving up.

"God you're like your father."

"Am I."

"Hrm."

"Should I take that as a yes."

"Hrm." His lips quirked up and the sound rumbled from his chest. She smacked him across the shoulder relishing briefly in his wince at the sting it left behind.

"The bomb's go off in several hours. I want to ring the children, make sure that they're not going to be anywhere close."

"And it's necessary to do that at 11:53?"

"It's 11:54 now Toby."

"Yes but you're very very pedantic."

"You knew that when you married me." His gaze softened which in return made her smile down at him, his greying hair, the muscles softening in his stomach the dark rings around his eyes.

"Yeh... I did." She leant down to kiss him again. "Come to bed Ashleigh, the kids can wait till morning."

- - - - -

"Harry- come to bed." His head snapped up and he sighed to see Ginny standing in the doorway, arms folded defiantly over the chest of her white flannel dressing gown. One slippered foot tap tap tapped on the wooden floor and Harry pulled off his glasses and scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his left hand.

"I can't Gin." she gave an annoyed snort as though she'd been expecting this answer and he carried on beseechingly. "I _need_ to know what happened, can't you understand that? What is this happens again. It could be _our_ children next time." He watched as a brief flash of fear appeared in her eyes and knew he'd one.

She moved further into the room and he turned his chair around, away from the kitchen table, and patted his lap. The red head perched on her husband's knee, wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Oh Gin, I'm sorry. As soon as soon as this is all over, we'll take a break together or something. I just- I can't imagine what goes on in the head of someone who'd do this."

He felt her shoulders shrug and her arms tighten and she mumbled into his shoulder. "But it's midnight." He threw a glance at the clock on the wall above the stove.

"It's 11:53 actually."

"Harry." There was a definite warning note in her voice and he grimaced at the tone. "Do not be pedantic with me right now. I'm not in the mood."

"Right... Sorry." He threw a glance at the table, it was very neat, all the papers perfectly sorted into little piles and tagged together in their little groups. It was his attempt at organisation but as he well knew, all a neat desk meant was a messy draw.\

He sighed and gave into his domineering wife. "Okay. You go back up to bed. I'll put these away and come right up." She nodded tersely and pulled away from him. He did love her but... sometimes, with his work and all the expectations laid on him, it was too hard to have a relationship with anyone, even his wife.

Ginny closed the kitchen door with a creak when she left and left Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, boy who lived, head of the auror division sitting alone at his kitchen table.

At 11:56 Harry Potter closed the last draw full of papers and crept reluctantly up the stairs to bed.

Only a few short miles away, unknown to Harry, Ashleigh Sulliven, war hero, founder of Sulliven Industries leading weapons firm, and beloved public figure, snuck from her slumbering husband's embrace and up the stairs to her office. The bedroom door creaked when she left.

- - - - -

AN/ Thanks MxAzingXSpork for your review here is a chapter just for you, sorry it's not too interesting but i'm halfway through chapter 6 and it should hopefully be interesting.

ps) everyone please review as it encourages me to write!


	6. The mornings of You and I

The alarm clock on my bedside table wakes me up, a present from my father in law some years back. The chime of some new muggle teeny group pop song rings out and with a growl I drag my pillow over my head.

I wait and count the seconds until Ginny gives a groan and rolls over until she is lying almost horizontal across my back. It is a customary morning position her warm weight jolting me to life as she stretches over to pick up the alarm and turn it off. Then, as usual, she complains.

"Harry, can't you just turn the damn thing off yourself for once, I wanted a lie in." I grunt at her and she sighs, knowing full well that she can not expect a coherent response from me at this time in the morning. She breathes another sigh and rolls off me. Her side of the bed creaks and rises as she gets up and I can hear the tell tale whoosh of fabric as she pulls on a dressing gown.

"I'll start on breakfast, wake the children and be down in ten." She says and I grunt again. She removes the pillow determinedly from my head and I open an eye. Without my glasses I see the outline of her figure, larger than it used to be and I feel a flash of remorse that I didn't savour more how it used to be. She turns, sees me watching and I hear her blow me a kiss, I can't see the gesture itself.

I smile back and give an affectionate grunt (although, even I have to admit that it sounds incredibly similar to my normal grunt) and bury me head back into the curve of my arm. She chuckles and leaves the door open when she leaves.

- - - - -

"Been in here all night?" Toby brushes a strand of hair from my eyes and kisses my cheek to wake me up. I've fallen asleep at my desk again my head cushioned on the patterned sleeve of my jacket. The material comes away with a pop when I lift my head. I rub my check and feel the imprint left there.

Toby laughs and helps me set my glasses straight. He puts a coffee in front of me and I sit up properly and all but inhale the warm brown substance. "Get washed, get dressed, the limo's waiting, we leave in ten."

- - - - -

Lily is screaming, something about not wanting eggs for breakfast. James is teasing her relentlessly, giving her hair sharp tugs when he thinks I'm not looking then complaining when she slaps his hand, and Albus is reading a book at the table again, with such intent that he hasn't even noticed where the pages are flopping into his half eaten cereal bowl.

"Al- put your book down please." Ginny's voice directly behind him makes him jump a mile high and he shovels a spoonful of soggy cornflakes into his mouth.

I watch James give up on teasing Lily when she jabs him in the thigh with her fork leaving a sticky yellow mess on his trousers.

"Eat quickly please your father and I both have to work today and since school's 'cancelled'," I can't help but feel she's accusing me of something. "We have to take you into work with us today."

- - - - -

Coffee is good. Food is not so good and I chuck it up into my waste paper bin. Toby tuts and fetches me a box of tissues to wipe my mouth on and promises me we'll go out for lunch as he helps me on with my coat.

- - - - -

The ministry car is large enough for all of us but they still all argue. There is room for two in the front and one of those is Ginny. Lily says that she should get the seat because she's the girl. James says that he should get it because he's the eldest and poor little Al is pushed over in the fray and tears open his knee. This makes Ginny yell (apparantly this turn of events with Albus is somehow my fault) and quickly heals the cut.

I am not in the mood and end up screaming at them to just get in the car. Albus gets the front seat because Ginny worries about him.

- - - - -

"You won't come... Promise me Blair... _Promise_ me!... Just stay away from there, that's all I'm asking... okay... okay... love you too sweetie, I'll see you soon." The conversation is short because Toby plucks the mobile from my hands and puts it into the pocket in the back of the drivers seat, in front of his knees.

"Don't fret." he says as through that's possible. "Let's just get this done alright." He places a hand on my knee and leans across the gap between us. He shoves my hair from my face and his lips meet the spot behind my ear, scratchy unshaved morning stubble vaguely irritating my skin, but not enough for me to stop him.

I catch the driver throwing us a brief look in the rear view mirror, he quickly looks away again when he meets my eye.

We stop in a traffic jam and Toby takes the opportunity to slip off my glasses and unclip his seat belt to scooch across to me.

His lips move against my neck, "God I love you when you're being bad."

- - - - -

I drop Ginny at St Mungos with a promise to pick her up this evening. She takes Lily and leaves the boys with me.

They're very quiet and I find myself not knowing what to say to either of them. I make an attempt anyway. "So... You boys looking forwards to seeing what the ministry's like?"

"No." is chorused back at me and Albus props his head up on his palm and stares out the window as we come up against a traffic jam. There is a white limousine next to us that catches his attention. A middle aged couple in the back seat seem, very 'intent' upon one another and Albus, always intrigued with watching other people moves his face closer to the car window in an attempt to see better.

Before I can think of some scheme to stop him looking at the inappropriate display the traffic jerks into movement and we trundle slowly on, the white limo moving away from us even at its own turtle pace.

I _finally_ get to the The Ministry without another attempt to interact with the boys. It's then another 15 minutes before I can find somewhere to park and I stalk from the car. James and Albus jog along behind me, their small legs finding difficulty in keeping up with my longer strides and I guiltily pause once inside to wait for them. We stand in front of a toilet with James giving me this funny look like I've grown another head and I explain how to get into the ministry, a few moments later I was standing in a fireplace in the atrium with Jamie telling me how disgusting all this toilet nonsense is.

I brush him off with a cluck of my tongue put one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of Albus' head and urge them both forwards.

- - - - -

The Limo pulled up in front of the tower block and the chauffeur quickly came around to open the door for me. Toby groaned in annoyance but made his own grudging way out of the car. Once out and the car driven away from the front entrance to find a parking space I peered up at my home from home "Sulliven Industries" in large blue lettering blared down at me in huge 12 foot lettering on the very top of the building.

I felt Toby take my arm and, like a gentleman, he lead me inside. He was stopped there when I was surrounded by people and I waved to him and winked as I was lead amongst the chattering professionals towards the elevator and up to the very heart of the building.

Consoles and screens and people talking in low voices about important matters instantly filled my senses and I smirked in the knowledge that, although all of them were fluent and knowledgeable in whichever area of my business they worked for, not even all of them together could they even begin to understand the intricate structure of my work.

It was mine, all mine. And Tobias'... to an extent... I suppose.

I peered at my watch face, intent on more important matters.

"Is everything ready?"

"Of course."

"Co-ordinates set, trajectory set, missile launch double, triple and quadruple checked?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Then let The Baby fly in five... four.. three... two... one."

A mouse clicked a button on a monitor.

- - - - -

**IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ **

I have 446 hits but only three reviews :( If you like this story please review and say but if you don't I will be discontinuing this. So it's **important** that you let me know as I don't really have the time to be writing this if no one's going to read it.


	7. Bubble

Pain shot through Harry's right arm and he clutched at his shoulder screaming. Debris and filth filled the air and he blinked through the fog for his children.

"Al-ack!" he tried to call for them and his lungs filled with unsanitary air and he broke into a coughing fit his legs taking on such a weakness that he fell to his knees clutching at his throat with one good arm.

A body slammed into his, he reeled sideways, his glasses skittered away across the floor and a disorientated body landed on top of him. Even through the smog, even without his glasses he could make out the mop of ginger hair and he clung on desperately to the figure that he hoped was his eldest son.

He heard someone scream a protection spell and a bolt of light ripped through the artificial darkness of debris and soot and ashes then sunk back down and expended into a bubble with encompassed the five or so people it landed on.

All other the room, people began to do likewise and shots of gold tore upwards then floated back down all other the ministry. Removing his good arm from the boy in his arms Harry fumbled for his wand and croaked "Orbisproto!"

An upwards blast of light left his wand warped until it was spherical then meandered back to earth and landed over him. Now that no more smog could get inside their little circle of the ministry. The dark haired man lay still on the ground with panicky breath being panted into his ear and soon the dust and dirt settled to the bottom of the sphere and he sat up careful not to disturb it.

He looked down at the body in his arms and his mouth fell in horror. He scrambled up away from the red headed woman on the floor whose short hair so resembled James', disturbing the dirt and making her hack into the palm of her hand. He gazed out of the bubble but couldn't see anything, it was too dark too dim and his glasses were God knows where.

In a fit of panic he lunged forwards to leave the bubble and the woman grabbed the back of his robes and tugged him backwards. He gave a small 'oof' as he landed half on top of her and she grimaced but hissed "You're not going out there, you'll die!" resoloutely into his ear.

"I'll stupefy you if I have to." she threatened, hand going for her wand.

"My boys are out there!" He screeched back, both their voices were rough and he almost choked as he tried to draw in breath with his hurting throat.

"No! Look at your arm." he looked down for the first time and saw squinted at his shoulder and biceps, the skin was mottled dark but he couldn't see any more than that. It burned though, when he tried to move it, like a thousand needles had lodged themselves into it

"I don't care-" he turned his head away and tried desperately not to make his voice crack. "I need to go get them- I can't leave them, I can't, I need to go!" he wailed making another lunge for the edge of the bubble, before he got there he heard a cry behind him.

"Stupefy!" and the world went black.

- - - - -

_**IMPORTANT**_

I got one review from Syndic-Machiavelli so thank you very much SM but please people _**I WON'T CONTINUE IF I DON'T KNOW IF YOU LIKE IT, THERE'S NO POINT!!! **_I do actually need feedback for this piece because I really don't have time to write it if you don't like it. I _**won't**_ _**be writing**_ any more chapters now. If you want me to you have to let me know else i just won't bother.


	8. The Last Snape

Harry woke up to the sounds of beeping and wondered vaguely where he was. Opening his eyes he found himself to be in what looked curiously like a muggle hospital. A woman in a pristine doctors coat gave him a quick smile then nodded to the figure lying asleep half across his legs.

"I think he wanted an interview." she said brightly then bustled out of the room without so much as another word.

The man looked to be perhaps in his early thirties with curly hair and dark olive skin that made Harry believe that perhaps he was foreign. He wore a shirt that was crumpled and a tie that had been haphazardly loosened, a pen was still grasped in his right hand and leaked ink over the bed covers. A notepad slipped from the covers to thump to the floor as Harry tried to extract his numb feet from out under the slumbering man.

The movement caused the man's eyes to flutter and a wide black gaze caught the other man's gaze, the look was held for several seconds before the man jerked bolt upright in his chair and stumbled out an apology.

"Oh- God, I'm sorry. Never meant to- must be more tired than I thought." He scrubbed his eyes, cast around for his notebook, which he quickly snatched up from the linoleum floor, and stuck out a hand for Harry to shake, standing up with the pen clutching hand holding the back of his seat.

"Nathan- Nathan Snape, I'm a reporter- my father taught you- I can't do magic." he expostulated the jumbled mess with such vigour, his eyes sharp and keen and his handshake firm and professional, if enthusiastic. "My sister went to Durmstrang (a/n there's nothing about it being an all boys school in the book and I'm ignoring the movie interpretation.)- dropped out, joined the army- she's good at what she does, runs a war firm now," He sat down and flicked his pad to a new page. "She's responsible for the bombings- took out St Mungos a few minutes after the ministry. I can't get anything through to her- thought you should know- it's nothing magical. Oh... your boys are alright by the way."

"Umm... thanks." A monitor next to him and for the first time Harry gave the other man a proper look. He could, perhaps, be mistaken for a girl, one who is flat chested, but still pretty in his own right with gypsy like skin and sharp black eyes that Harry imagined were quite capable of cruelty: like his father's. He is slim, short and lacking in the usual broadness that characterises males.

The hair, in desperate need of a cut, was the same strange black that Severus Snape's had been. The face was still as slim as the dead man's with the same configuration of high cheekbones, and arching brows his lips were similarly slim as his father's had been and healing from chaps brought on by the dry weather. The skin colour was different, the nose was different, more snub and turned up at the end in a girlish way, and the hair was in wild and bedraggled curls but that's where the differences ended.

Underneath his shirt his body was as skinny as his face and Harry vaguely wondered if he was anorexic.

"Where are my boys, where are Lily and my wife."

"They are all safe and fine, the lads had a few scrapes but I saw to it that they were treated straight away and your misses is dropping all three little ones with their grandparents." Harry gave a satisfied nod at that, then frowned and asked.

"What about Ginny. You said they bombed St Mungos? Is she alright."

"Just fine, she was outside at the time, on her break, your daughter was with her, don't worry Mr Potter." He gave the tiny brunette in the chair besides his bed a hard look but the other man's face was expressionless.

"You sounded just like your father when you called me that." Nathan gave a barking 'hah!'.

"I think you will find me a little more liberal minded than he was, Mr Potter." The auror nodded but fixed him with a hard look.

"Tell me about what is going on."

"Happy to."


	9. The Independent

_**The Independent Newspaper**_

_October 5th 2017_

MISSILES, BOMBS AND BELOVED MURDERERS

We have all long since come to terms with the idea of magic since revelations of its existence in 2014, and we have all long since come accustomed to the dangers of magic since then.

As the baby brother of arguable one of the most influential soldiers in the infamous war in Iraq I feel it is my duty to make you understand what she is.

As a man privy to the secrets of a deadly woman I tell you now, I have no quarrel with my sister. I mean her husband no harm, for indeed he is one of the best of my friends, and my niece and nephew are most beloved to me, but I find her methods despicable.

Who is to tell us that we are better than those who can do magic. That our science means we out rank those who know so little of it. To murder men and women who have no idea that we are here and knowledgeable of them, to cut them down as though they were meaningless, is nothing less that inhuman.

Ashleigh Sullivan, the people's hero, knows this and has laughed about her conquering power as though she believes that these actions are quite acceptable.

You may think that they are a pest, lesser beings, diluting British Blood but consider the many incidents of London train bombings, or the attack on the two towers some years back, think back, if you can, to these events, some of you may have even witnessed them first hand and others of you may have lost friends and family.

If you believe that just because these men and women live such archaic lives that they are incapable of feeling the exact same emotions of despair and horror that you felt upon those exact same occasions then please, go ahead and join the side of war with your much esteemed Queen of Hostility and ignore what I am saying.

But If you are intelligent enough to see that they are merely people who are confused and hurting then we here at _The Independent_ beg you to write to your local MP and let them know your justified disgust at the decisions you are letting this woman make.

_Article Written by N Snape_


	10. The Witch and The Muggles

"She's a witch." The door slammed open and Harry limped into his house.

"Oh God Harry." Ginny jumped up when she saw him enter and Hermione stood in distress. The green eyed man could hear Ron clunking about in the kitchen. Harry wrapped his good arm around Ginny's waist and rested his weight on his one uninjured leg.

"She's a witch," he repeated. "The person who's doing this." Ron appeared in the doorway from the kitchen to the lounge. "She's Snape's daughter. He sent her to Durmstrang, afterwards she joined the army." Ginny led him to the settee and Ron came in to sit with the rest of them. "She was in a huge muggle war where she rose through the ranks easily, killed a lot of men and saved a lot of people's lives."

"She was thrown out. She was pregnant but before she was thrown out then she made a name for herself with the public and milked it for all it was worth when she was out. She began a war firm, rose in infamy and power and esteem and quickly her inventions and progress and charm made her a very influential woman. Snape died and she's had a vendetta against the wizarding world, that coupled with ingrown megalomania had led to this. Apparantly, their world has known about us for some time, but with so few muggle borns integrating themselves into our world since the war, we've never known."

He paused to think and Ginny hugged him in comfort. "They think that _we're_ sub-par."

"The attacks were made by muggles?" Ron asked, his jaw hanging and his eyes wide and nearly crossed with confusion and thought.

"Led by a witch that they don't know is a witch."

"How?" Ginny nearly yelled furious at this development.

"Bombs!" Hermione exclaimed the glint of realisation coming to her eyes.

"And a missile for the ministry."

"Amazing." Her face was a mix of outrage and awe and even somewhere, in the depth of those brown eyes, a tiny bit of pride at muggle ingenuity against a race of people who always thought themselves best.

The two redheads clearly had no such positive feelings about all this and to see the truth, neither had Harry, although he could understand them.

"Where did you learn this." The intelligent ex-gryffindor asked desperately, scrabbling in her handbag for pen and paper.

"The last Snape, the Greasy Git's very own son. Squib-sort of-"

"Sort of?" Ron interrupted but Harry ignored him and carried on.

"His name is Nathan, he works for The Independent, the newspaper" he clarified for the frizzy haired brunette at her inquisitive look. "You'd like him, Hermione. I don't like him, but I think he's on our side."

This only seemed to enrage Harry's slim wife further and she stood up with a wail, throwing her hands into the air.

"A Snape!" she spat.

"Severus Snape was on _our _side Ginny!"

"And his daughter is trying to kill us"

Harry's voice dropped very quiet. "And his son is trying to help us."

"Im going to bed." she hissed back at him and stormed out the door and up the stairs. Harry turned to his two friends and sighed. Ron was staring at his feet and Hermione stood and hugged him then whispered in his ear.

"We better go." As she drew back he could still see the spark of intrigue in her eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt that the next morning she would be looking into all this.

After they left Harry sat on the couch with his face in his hands.

"Daddy?" His head snapped to the sound of a child's voice and he looked to see Albus standing at the door, his face white as a sheet.

"Al? I thought you were staying with nanny and granddad Weasley's tonight?" He extended his arms and Albus quickly clambered into them, despite his age and size. His fearful eyes clearly showed that he needed love right now. He shook his head against Harry's shoulder.

"I didn't want to, mom let me come home. Why were you arguing."

"We weren't Albus." the skinny arms tightened around his neck.

"Don't lie. You were. Why does mom not like people with the last name Snape? Who are they?"

"Just people, same as anybody else, Albus, some of them have faults, some of them are good and brave, your mother is sometimes blind to the good and the brave ones, if she has previously only had acquaintance with the bad. Now to sleep." He said firmly, and standing up took solace in the small body in his arms as he carted him out the room to bed.


	11. The Fight

Nathan lounged in the chair with his feet propped up on the desk, ankles crossed as well as his arms and looked emotionlessly onwards as Sullivan tore around her office.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!" She screamed as she came to stop briefly behind his seat. He tipped his head back to look at her and his hair fell out of his cold, dark eyes.

"Revealing you for what you are!"

"No! No, we were so close I could taste victory. I _fucking_ like the taste of victory you worthless little _dick_!" She wailed storming on and overturning a bookshelf with a wood cracking kick. Toby stood nervously at the door, chewing his nails and shuffling from one foot to the other. Now and again he would say 'Ashleigh' in a pacifying tone, but, being ignored, would say no more; he had gone to war without complaint but like any good husband, when his wife was in a rage, he left her to it.

Nathan sent him a very dear look which softened his hard countenance and put Tobias somewhat at rest. The nail biting stopped at least and the smile the younger man wore brightened further. Too many years of being stressed and worn, too many years of fighting, had made the sweet boy into a cynical man: it took ten years off him when he smiled.

Ashleigh was still raving, still breaking things, still looking murderous. Nathan on the other hand collected himself, his eyes grew dull and stoney again and he swung his legs down from the table to stand. "You are a child and this is ridiculous. Go back to your little world of power and control but keep it out of magic. Is one empire not enough to sate your appetite, can't you be content. I don't like you when your like this, when you're so ravenous for dominance that you consume and consume and consume lives without thinking for a second about who it's hurting."

"Shut up!"

"No, I shan't, you're mad with this and if I have to ruin myself trying to tear your mastery away from you I will. For the sake of everything you love, stop it stop it, stop it!"

Tobias had a feeling that his brother in law would not have stopped there but her hand went for the holster on her hip. As though in slow motion he lunged at her as she tore the gun out of it and up towards her brother's face. The movement was quick, the gun went off like thunder and Nathan went silent.

- - - - -

Should I kill him or shouldn't I, can't decide as of yet. Review! I've put up a lot of chapters tonight to get to this point so what do you think.


	12. Criminals

A set of shops in diagon alley had, with some resentment, agreed to give up their space to allow the ministry workers to move in. All down the street darkening spells had been thrown up against windows to shut out nosy priers and little wooden plaques had been hung off the front doors to show which area of the ministry had moved in.

It had quickly been arranged for the healers to set up camp in the town halls of wizarding towns all over England and magical patients from yesterdays attacks were swiftly being transferred from muggle hospitals to whichever town was closest to where they lived. Like many others, Harry stopped off to get the burns and broken ankle fixed up and left for work feeling rather achy but generally alright.

Ginny was working in the town of Witch Wood near Devon today whereas Harry and the rest of the Aurors were crammed into Florean Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlour.

This wasn't the best and most conducive workspace as every other person in there seemed to be helping themselves to ice cream and, although the booths inside the shop were comfortable, the wooden benches outside were nothing more than cold and hard.

Ginny had still been in a mood that morning as they dropped Albus at his grandparents for the day and Ginny had apparated to Devon. Harry had received a stark kiss of the cheek for appearances sake but nothing more. However, shortly after she left Hermione arrived to drop of Rose and Hugo and she was far more enthusiastic about seeing him.

"Oh, Harry! How are things this morning, are you both all right? Look, Ron's already gone ahead to work but I was wondering if you could tell me more about Snape's children, now you're sure they're Snapes?"

"Yes Hermione. Quite sure."

"And how old would you say they are?"

"Oh God, I don't know. The boy looked a little younger than us I guess but I got the feeling from him that his sister was older."

"No exact ages."

"No sorry."

"Right, well he works for The Independent, what about her, where do I find her?"

"I don't know, some war firm, they make weapons and machinery and armour and stuff I think, I really don't know though Hermione. He only told me the situation and he's not exactly the clearest of people when he talks anyway. He just rambles. Look," he put a hand over the notepad she was furiously scribbling on to cease her efforts. "His name is Nathan Snape, he works for The Independent and he has a column of his own, just go look him up."

She nodded gave him a quick hug, then, eager to start research, apparated quickly away.

Work was a nightmare, it was quickly too hot and too loud and soon he found himself eating ice cream and casting silencing charms around the booth where he was sitting. This was somewhat better only a little annoying when the ice cream choose to drip onto his paperwork on when he wanted to talk to someone else and had to keep removing and replacing the silencing charm. What a hassle!

He had informed the department straight away that they were dealing with muggles and had sent them off to look for information. This had proved harder than he'd thought. Muggles didn't use books they used computers, even their newspapers were available online rather than sent on parchment, Harry, having been out of the muggle world for far too long had been oblivious to these technological advancements and none of the others knew any more.

Auror Green, Henrietta Green, had been the best they had, a woman in her mid-50s whose husband was a muggle, she quickly got in contact with him and the balding man came in with a laptop looking rather peaky and intimidated between the three Aurors instructed to bring him there.

After a concise explanation of how to use a computer- the basics like internet surfing, saving documents and printing out- Harry sent three of his younger, more enthusiastic men out to a muggle library to do some research on the firm that Auror Green's husband has assured them was called Sullivan Industries.

Looking much relieved Mr Green and his laptop were able to leave Diagon alley, still with an escort, and Harry made notes on everything the man had told them for future reference.

This being done he waited for the three young aurors to come back with information whilst Ron made an attempt to get permission off the right people to go to The Independent and Sullivan Industries. The only problem with this was that he hadn't a clue whom the 'right people to go to' were.

This led to a lot of confusion and embarrassment for the red head who quickly began finding jobs like 'go check the ministry again for missed clues' to try and getting his amused co-workers out of the way.

Finally one of the young aurors returned looking somewhat scorned (apparantly a little girl had asked him why he was wearing a dress, which wasn't so much of a problem until someone had filled him in on what a dress was and why men shouldn't wear one); upon his return he brought with a whole load of material on the histories of the two Snape's concerned, including one of the largest criminal records Harry had seen in a while, this belonged to Mr Snape, not Mrs Sullivan her records were almost immaculate apart from the dismissal from the armed forces, and such items as marriage certificates, birth certificates of children and, for the young man, muggle qualifications.

It was an impressive hoard and when the other two came back they seemed quite ashamed that all they had were articles from papers and other general knowledge available over the internet. Harry decided that he didn't even want to know how the first man had got his hands on all this but contented himself with just being very pleased that they had it at all.

One of the young aurors, however, had also remembered to gather information, not just on their targets but on the targets weapons to and gave Harry a stack of papers printed off military information sites telling the people about the quality of their weapons, their names, size and devastation abilities, all right in cheery encouraging, patriotic language that made Harry's insides squirms.

Most of the photographs that came with the information had a symbol printed onto the side, a blue S in a blue circle. Sullivan.


	13. Photos and murder

Toby's hand over his wife's wrist was shaking and he watched blood pour from his brother in law's shoulder. His wife ripped her wrist from his grasp the the gun down onto the desk and whirled around to smack him across the face.

Nathan had stumbled back into the wall and was staring at the ruin of his arm and shoulder in shock "You shot me!" He accused.

"You pissed me off."

"You were aiming for my head, you tried to kill me!"

"You pissed me off!" She reiterated through clenched teeth as she tore her glasses off her large nose and cleaned the blood off with the hem of her shirt. That done she turned around slumped into her chair and began digging through draws until she found her wand, 12 inches long and made of elder wood, untouched now for many years. "Come here."

She grabbed his bad arm to pull it closer towards her and held up a wand. Her brother hissed in pain and shover her roughly away with the hand that didn't feel like the arm it was attached to was burning up.

"What?" She exclaimed.

"I need photographic evidence that you tried to kill me." he snapped in all seriousness, ignoring her scoff as he pulled at the velcro on the camera bag at his waist. He passed the slim silver item to his brother in law.

"Ah- Oh- God Nathan I can't take that!"

"Hah!" The large nosed girl tossed her hair victoriously and Nathan's scowl deepened towards the large man fumbling with his camera uncomfortably.

"Then give it back." he hissed, trying to move forwards and take the camera to photograph himself. His face instantly contorted in pain and when he grit his teeth Toby could see blood squeeze between them. In a moment Ashleigh had hidden her concerned look that had, for a second, taken up residence on her face, and, with infinite care and a fake sigh, was re-knitting skin with the tip of her wand.

Nathan watched her work suspiciously and when she was done he flexed his arm and said firmly. "You tried to kill me."

"And yet your voice isn't even wavering." He shrugged and winced when the action stretched the tender new skin, looking pale with blood loss.

"Despite what you may think, you aren't the scariest thing in this world, and might I remind you that this is not your first attempt on my life, I suppose I must be getting used to it." he said bitterly his eyes so narrow that they were like thin back slits in his face. He shoved himself upwards and took his camera from Toby's hand, the older man could feel the reporter's fingers trembling furiously as they brushed his own. He threw a look to his wife, who, although she was not outwardly denying the accusation, wore a most indignant look which fairly screamed 'I was only nine you brat', but even Sullivan had sense enough to keep her mouth shut at times like this.

In silence they watched the young man snap photos of the blood smattered room, he turned his camera then to his sister he growled in his face before he could try and immortalise her red smattered image. He left, slamming the door behind him.

In his absence Ashleigh flung herself into her chair and Toby perched himself on the edge of her desk and stared down at her. He was the first to talk.

"Why did you do it?"

"Thanks for not taking incriminating photos." she tried for a subject change.

"Ashleigh..."

"Oh I don't know!" there was a few more moments of silence where he stared at his wife and his wife stared at the gun on the table top. "It would be easier though wouldn't it." she looked up and her eyes held a gleam of maliciousness that had followed her up throughout her childhood, army days, years of mother hood and was only stronger now for it. "I mean, think about it baby." a smirk curved her lips. "No more newspaper articles or protests, no talking to wizards, no interfering at all!"

"You _can't_ murder your brother"

"Oh why not!" she stamped her foot: a petulant child.

"Because he's your _brother_!" Toby stood up, burying his head in his hands. "Ah God, Ashleigh I can't talk to you!" He left the room without another backwards glance. Sullivan grinned at the back of the door and fingered the tip of her wand.


	14. Filler in the night

The man was a protester, a shaker-upper of classified information. The Woman was a war veteran and a sadist. Harry was scared- too close, too close; twice now he could have lost his children, and where would the next bomb be dropped, the next missile fired?

He shoved the papers, the information away from him. Some of the papers toppled from their piles and slid like water over the edge of the table and onto the floor. Harry Potter was up late again: working.

The thing was, they had very good defences but the defences were for magic not for muggle firearms (which were far easier to use than an avada kedavra and nearly as fatal in the right hands) and of course _no one_ had ever tried to create spells that might arm against muggle warfare, no one had ever made a protego charm to stop bullets or with stand the impact of a bomb.

Harry's area was not in making up spells. But Hermione. Hermione's was.


	15. Help from Hermione

MxAzingXSpork:- cheers so muchly for your review and yes Sullivan is quite Crazy and she's had one hell of a journey too. From her salad days when I was 13 in 'Summer with Snape' to (with a very slight name change but still a Sullivan) being, along with her brother, a character in my very own published work, to back to being the daughter of the ever infamous Severus Snape in AOI and she's still, through and through, just as crazy as she ever was. And still one of my favourite characters to write. Anyone, on that not I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH for your reviews and enthusiasm!

- - - - -

Working in a shop primarily used to promote quidditch supplies did not appeal to Hermione although Ron had made the journey from Florean Fortescue's, apparantly to see her, several times now. Considering he always exclaimed 'I just wanted to be with my baby' he did seem more interested in the new Starburst 60 which gleamed in its display case just above and slightly to the left of Hermione's head.

Harry had not, however, come to see her in her new place of residence and, indeed, she hadn't expected him to so it was altogether a curious surprise when he burst through the provisional door of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Harry?" She stood to hug him then promptly sat again after one look at his stoney face.

"Sorry to intrude, I need a favour." he sat opposite her, conjuring up a chair to go with her transfigured table. He leant conspiratorially forward and she mimicked the gesture until they were so close that she could feel his hard breath on her face.

"What do you need." she prompted, summoning a quill and fresh sheet of parchment from her bag.

"Spells, defensive one."

"Haven't you got those already or did you go through seven years of facing Voldemort without learning a one." she mocked lightly, trying to left the stormy look from her friend's face.

"I do, but not the right ones. Here." He passed her the wad of information he'd been brought an hour or so ago. "There are pictures of weapons used by the army in there, stuff with the blue S are manufactured and designed by the Snape women. There's also an interview where she laughs about her favourite weapons." he shuffled through and retrieved a group of papers bound together in the corner. "These are the strategies and movements that she has employed before and, of course, articles telling the muggle view on her attacks. They've got information in them about the weapons used and techniques and stuff. I need you to come up with spells that can defend against the weapons that she uses. It's already been proven that they can slice through any magical wards we can already put up. I wouldn't ask, but..."

"I know. It's important." She was already reading through the information, carefully circling things or markings stars at the top of pages. Quite engrossed, she only waved a hand at Harry as he left.

- - - - -

Well it's 20 past midnight here and I haven't eaten since what I suppose is now yesterday morning so I'm off now to get a bowl of cereals and then i'll be writing more because I'm not sleepy yet. So Review and make me happy whilst I'm gone and I shall love you forever.


	16. Ronald

It took Hermione two days create a basic shield. This one was for an individuals use and by no means perfect, but it was the best they would get on such short notice. She was part way towards creating a ward but that would take much longer. Simultaneously, she was still trying to improve her first spell. As soon as the first draft had been created, however, he made sure if appeared on the front of the prophet, available to everyone.

Thank God for Hermione.

Harry was worried about Gringotts and The Prophet building. He'd managed to persuade (with little difficulty) the Prophet reporters to work from home and floo one another when needed. The goblins, however, we're not to be removed and had instead threatened to close the doors to Gringotts and not let anyone in.

In the end, Harry had relented and let them stay.

- - - - -

It took Sullivan two days to find a strategist. Once upon a time, when Nathan was sweet as sugar and not at all brave enough to defy his sister she would put his incredible brain to use. Since the time when she could manipulate him had passed she had moved on to doing the dirty work herself but now when she was so caught up in trying to plan her brother's murder she had saw fit to bring in a partner. At least she could console herself with the fact that Nathan's bloody photos had not appeared on the front page of the Independent.

Thank God for Tobias.

Ashleigh was worried about Tobias, he was, once again, acting as her rock, supporting her in all she did and rubbing her feet when she was tired and they were saw. But he was no longer acting like her husband. At first she had made an attempt to approach him herself but had just been pushed away.

In the end, Sullivan had relented and left her husband alone.

- - - - -

Hermione pulled at a curl and frowned at the page of scribbles in front of her, after a moments indecision, she raised her wand and tried the spell.

- - - - -

Nathan pulled at a curl and scowled at the time and place scribbled on the sticky note on his desk. After a moments indecision, he pulled out his notebook and stalked out the door.

- - - - -

Ron had finally managed to get through to The Independent. He had also succeeded in talking to someone at Sullivan Industries but the woman on the phone had told him to go away and mind his own business and that no, he may not ask The Snape Lady why she was trying to kill them.

The man at The Independent was far more willing to talk to him and had said quite happily that he would write Mr Snape a note saying where and when to go and meet the contact: Ron.


	17. Apple pie and Water

Wow! It's 20 past 6 in the morning here and I've just woken up (way too early in my opinion) to find that my reviews have gone from 11 to 25 so thank you so so much, this makes me love you all! 11 of these were from Tomoyo Kinomoto so I love you so much, thank you for your enthusiasm, I dedicate this chapter to you for it!

I've got a review from Queen of Pink Flamingos so thank you so much, you're such a dear but I am sorry that I go too fast :( I'm just trying to do short fast moving scenes because they hold my interest so I write more of the story and you get updates more. Sorry! If other people would like longer chapters too then say but I make no promises that they'll keep my interest!

Thank you I-Heart-Werewolves, and of course MxAzingXSpork who I am always happy to hear from hug

- - - - -

Ron was uncomfortable. He never did like Snape and he never did get the hang of dressing like a muggle and felt they out of place in the suit that Hermione had transfigured for him. He stood edgy and too warm around the collar on a street corner waiting for the other man.

A long fingered hand tapped on his shoulder and he turned to look at the man behind him, dark hair, dark eyes, he supposed that this was him. The man didn't say a word, just peered at Ron, eyes flitting from the red heads gaze to the rest of his face and back again several times before he gave a sharp nod of his head and turned around to walk away.

"Follow me." he said firmly.

Ron kept close to the tiny brunette as they passed through several shady looking alleyways and finally out into the sunlight once more. A small and shabby cafe stood squished between a pair of warehouses, there were three people inside and one of those was the woman serving.

"This is where we generally bring people for interviews, information- off the beaten track. That's a co-worker." he pointed through the window at a woman talking animatedly with a man in a blue jumper.

When Ron was done looking at them, Nathan had removed himself to the door and was holding it obligingly open for Ron. Still Snape suspicious, he edged through the door as though the other man might pull out a wand and kill him right there. He was sure the other man had noticed but he refrained from saying anything to the uncomfortable auror until they had seated and ordered.

"You want information off me I believe, a novel experience for a reporter." his smile was bright but never reached him eyes and he pulled out a strange wad of wire bound parchment and an on little thing which acted like a quill only it produced ink of it's own accord. Subtly, Ron gave the back of the man's hands a look, just to make sure it didn't work like Umbridge's had in their fifth year. It didn't.

"I won't keep you long, it's hard for wizards to get information on muggles."

"Oh yes, I quite understand. We really wouldn't like you to be able to get it quite so easily." at Ron's scorned look he continued. "That's not to say that it's any easy for us to keep tabs on you, if it wasn't for Ashleigh we might still be oblivious."

"Aren't you a squib." he accused and watched the other man flinch.

"No, I cannot do magic."

"What's the difference."

"_I_ was born with magic in me- I lost it."

"How?" the man fiddled with the rim of the latte that the cafe's proprietor brought over for him. She placed a glass of water and a slice of apple pie over for Ron and he dug eagerly in.

"The first seven or so years of my life were furnished with many of fate's murder attempts upon me. Such things as meningitis and 'falling' out windows all squeezed into the space of a few years at the time of early development can really stunt your magical growth." he paused then laughed. "I suppose they stunt other sorts of growth as well." he exclaimed gesturing to his small height. Ron couldn't help but give a huff of laughter and the reporter's smile did meet his eyes this time. "Now-" he prompted enthusiastically.

"Ah, right. Now, I just need some information on your sister if you're willing to give it."

"Well I can tell you for one that she's brought in a new strategist for this operation." He jotted down a name and some information on how the man works then pushed in across to Ron and turned to a fresh page.

"She's planning on hitting Gringotts next, I know that as well- no money- economic ruin- no hope, no trust, lots of anarchy yada, yada, yada." He scrawled down some new notes on how the economic ruin would work to help destroy the wizarding community then clicked something at the top of his writing stick and the ink changed to red. In the red he wrote something in block capitals on the paper then clicked the top again and the writing returned to blue. Under the red he made a short list then shoved it across to the auror again.

The red writing said '_HOW_' and under it were a list of probable methods for taking out the wizarding bank.

"I couldn't tell you for the life of me how she'll bring it down, normally I'd say missiles, she can change the building in question, it's very precise and, if strong enough, would be able to wipe out most of the underground layers. But the strategist she's employed is known for being far more subtle in his proceedings." Ron nodded and put the piece of paper on top of the first.

"I can, to an extent, guess what she might do after this." he continued. "Wouldn't want to say, could be wrong, steer you wrong." he said with a frown. then wrote down a string of numbers and an address. "After whatever happens next happens ring me on that number, do you know what a telephone is? Yes? Good. Well ring me on that number or come to my house after work and I'll see what more I can give you."

He drained his latte in a few swift gulps then called for a bill.

"I need to go, you finish eating, I've got your bill, then, if walk straight out of here and look to the right there's a little right hand turn, follow that until you get to the bottom of some stairs, they lead up to an abandoned warehouse, no one will head up there or down those stairs, you should be completely safe to apparate."

Ron finished chewing the mouthful of his pie. "Thanks."

"Your welcome." the smaller man shoved his pad and quill-stick-thing into his pocket then swiftly left. He smiled for the woman who was his co-worker as she passed and she spared him a brief nod before continuing on her conversation.

Ron turned back to the apple pie.


	18. S Snape

In his mirror he could clearly see the dark circles under his eyes: purple like bruises. He wasn't sleeping.

An article on his desk would be his last. He didn't know this; wouldn't know this for a while yet. That didn't stop it from being true.

It was entitled 'The War Witch: tales of a Sullivan'. It had taken hours in the crafting.

"Dad?" Simon was standing in the door to Nathan's office and the older man turned when he entered. "What time is it? Why are you working so late?" The dark eyed child sat down at his father's desk, removed his glasses and scrubbed at his face with the heel of a hand.

"Oh, I'm not up so late Si, I just wanted to finish an article... You should go back to bed. You'll be beat tomorrow otherwise."

His son provided him with a wiry smile "Yeh, cuz you never get through the day on adrenaline." he teased, "Besides, it's not like I have school tomorrow."

"That's not the point and you know it." He crossed the room wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders to help him up and led him from the room. "Get some sleep Simon, I'll see you in the morning." he left with a nod and a yawn and after a few guilty moments his father followed suit.

The last article that would ever be written by Nathan Snape sat innocently on the table.

- - - - -

I'm feeling really ill today, it's 9:17pm and I've only just fully woken up.


	19. A chapter of deceptive importance

Happiness is not a fish, despite what her daughter would have her believe. It was a motto long existing in her family, started by her step mother, put onto a young enterprise hoody by her brother, then petulantly adopted by Blair Sullivan at the tender and impressionable age of eight.

'Happiness is a Fish' had it's origins in Cleopatra and Tiberius. The pet cat and goldfish owned by the ex-wife of Severus Snape, Nathan's mother, her most un-beloved stepmother. It was, Sullivan considered, typical of somebody who had produced such a flighty son to come out with such weird sayings. Rumour (In this case the drunken ramblings of a giggly 17 year old Nathan) had it that one day Cleopatra made an outstanding effort to procure Tiberius from his bowl when their owner had come in, scooped Cleopatra into her arms and promptly exclaimed "Oh, happiness is just a fish to you, isn't it."

Now, back to our story (as far as it is one). From step mother to brother to daughter. Blair.

Blair Sulliven, brown haired, brown eyed, and incurably Gryffindor was a plain girl who made up for this fact by having all her mother's bravery and intelligence and all her father's tenderness (and, if Ashleigh was going to be honest with herself, Blair had also picked up her uncle's charm). Manipulative the girl was not, though the same could not be said for her older brother Ian who had been placed in Ravenclaw and was now trying to nestle himself snuggly into the conservative party.

Neither was the girl vindictive, cruel or malicious, she was indeed, very like Nathan had been in his youth (including a healthy interest in the workings of magic) but with no dead death-eater double agent father to turn her eccentricity into cynicism. Surprisingly, Blair was the one of her children whom she got on best with, this probably lay in the girls other catch phrase "I am the self-proclaimed, bravest person in the universe!" a direct quote from Ashleigh.

Nathan criticised it saying that neither mother nor daughter were particularly brave, you have to fear something first to then go on and be brave, if you are scared of nothing you can be fearless but not brave.

Sullivan still believed that "I am the self-proclaimed, bravest person in the universe!" was better than "Happiness is a Fish." Unfortunately, Blair was choosing to utilise the second of the two at this present moment.

"Mum! Remember, happiness is a fish and fishies can't live in fire you know. If you fry all the fish with bombs and missiles you'll destroy all the happiness, or something." She raised an eyebrow, which her daughter didn't seem to notice.

"Ah, would you prefer me to flood them all instead, a lot of wizarding establishments are underground you know, I'm sure it could be done with relative ease."

"Oh mum. Do you have to kill them all?"

"Of course baby girl- you know I think I may be warming to this flooding idea."

"You're a hopeless case mum." Blair just smiled and pulled herself up so that she was sitting cross legged directly atop Sullivan's plans.

Unfortunately, Gryffindor traits were rooted in bravery and heroics and Blair had her fair share of those in the muggle world. Although, as previously mentioned, she had a healthy interest in the working's of magic she was not as fanatical about it as her Uncle (who, coincidentally, had had his chance of being a wizard ultimately ripped from his hands by Sullivan) and saw it only as a nice new skill she was able to learn as part of the much broader education she was put through. Really, her mother had nothing against the people, more against the culture and it was (As Tobias knew intimately) futile to try and change the mind of Severus Snape's daughter when her heart was set on an outcome.

Settling happily into a conversation more shopping related Blair reasoned that she would just go and explain it all to them that they should just leave if they didn't want to die (simple enough really) and left it at that.

Ashleigh Sullivan knew well that Happiness was not a fish, no matter how desperately simple and quaint this saying might appear (despite its ability to be interpretted a thousand different ways, most of them making about as much sense as her daughters had), and she knew that her brother knew this now as well. She hadn't lied though when she said the flooding idea was warming on her.

- - - - -

Right who can tell me why I think Blair's name is hilarious and who can tell me the reference in a previous chapter to the houses of Sullivan's two children. Anyone who can tell me both answers will have a chapter dedicated to them.

ps) still ill so probably won't be updating with thee speed I normally do, sorry, pity me for I cough until I vomit xx


	20. Rest in peace my friends

The day that they targeted Gringotts had long been anticipated; by long, I mean three days from the point that Nathan Snape revealed Sullivan's plans to Ron. Hermione, along with several others now that she'd managed to fix the foundations, had created a charm to try and protect the building, still resoloutely inhabited by Goblins. They didn't know how well the shield would work and the Goblins had at least retreated to the deepest pits of the bank.

- - - - -

The day that they targeted Gringotts, Ashleigh Sulliven was not there, the operation left into the hands of her strategist. The day that they targeted Gringotts, Sulliven left early and travelled in the silence to her brother's house before it was even light. As she rode along in the car, the half light of the dawning day dappled over the cream leather seats she strummed a tune on her briefcase with her fingers and hummed nursery rhymes under her breath. She wondered briefly how her nephew was faring.

- - - - -

The day that they targeted Gringotts the editor of The Independent had arranged to come and collect an article from journalist Mr Snape, they were to meet at the pub The Vine at midday a few blocks away from Mr Snape's house for some lunch and for the editor to read through the article: apparantly it was a risky one but he had expected nothing less.

- - - - -

The day that they targeted Gringotts Nathan Snape hadn't slept... again.

- - - - -

The day that they targeted Gringotts was the day Blair had decided to visit some influential witches and wizards and simply tell them to tell everyone else to leave.

- - - - -

Harry Potter was tired. It was the day that they would target Gringotts, not that he knew this, of course. He had tried to clear everyone from diagon alley, making it horribly difficult for people within the ministry to communicate with each other as there was now no longer a real building to use, but people were still flocking it Gringotts all trying to draw out as much money as they could possibly carry.

This meant that on the day that they would target Gringotts over two hundred witches and wizards, some with children were inhabiting Gringotts, it also meant that Harry had to spare aurors to stop riots from breaking out inside the bank, they were all scared young men and women. None of them wanted to be there, they all knew that something was going to happen some time soon, maybe within the hour, maybe next week. But people are insatiable, irrational and unbelievably violent when it comes to money so those poor aurors stood in the wizarding bank and did their duty.

Harry was there, outside the building with his men trying to stop the push and shoving, the screaming and cursing of the angry mob trying to get inside. One of the angry mob pushed over to him, she didn't seem so angry and he realised that she was not trying to get inside the bank that she was just trying to get to him.

"Harry, Harry Potter," she could out to him, waving an arm for his attention and weaving through the press and heave of bodies. She had a London accent. "I'm Blair Sulliven- can I talk?" He nodded and reached out to take her hand and pull her the short distance from the heaving rabble to a quieter area off to the side of the bank.

"It's not you, she's not targeting wizards and witches she's targeting the community, the culture, that's what she dislikes. If you all just leave, at least for a while, let her level all this, they're just building's they can be replaced. It's all the pureblood fanaticism, the pigeonholing the social pressures and conformities and the double standards. It's the house rivalries that go so far past the point of school. It's this world she doesn't like, it's nothing to do with the people, she doesn't blame the people for what happened she only blames the attitudes. I never met my grandfather, I was born the same year he died. Just tell everyone to leave, they'll listen to you, you're their saviour. It's not them she wants to destroy."

The girl was standing closer to the building than Harry was and it made all the difference.

The missile hit and Harry was flung away by the sheer force of it, his world blacked out.

Standing closer to the building, when the missile hit, a chunk of stone propelled outwards at high speeds and high temperature smashed into Blair's back and pitched her several metres.

It took only seconds for Harry to come round but she was already dead: her back was twisted abnormally half of her facing upwards the other half to the ground as though someone had just twisted her body.

Squinting up without his glasses to where Gringotts he saw the blurry outlines of collapsing rubble the gleam or fire but could hear neither the roar of the flames not the screams of the living. A ringing pierced through his skull but when he screamed himself it was as though he didn't make a sound. Ne couldn't feel his lower body either and couldn't decide which to be more concerned about. As rubble began to rain from the heavens he gave up and let the world black out again.

- - - - -

Thank you to LunaGirl484, R.A.B, Tomoyo Kinomoto and MxAzingXSpork, but I'm giving no dedications this chapter because no one even tried to answer my two questions at the end of chapter 19, oh well.

Anyway, I thought I would put into perspective just how fast this fic is occurring because in real life these things don't happen slowly. Chapter one was 4th October and this chapter is the 11th so literally a week has gone by since this all began.

The end is in sight. Not sure how many more chapters there will be, I'd guess around the five mark, give or take a few. So enjoy it whilst it all lasts.

V&A


	21. My baby brother

Ashleigh Snape was already six when her brother came along. Perhaps this was why she didn't love him. Rather than having her father all to herself she now had to share him with some strange new woman and a squalling baby whom everyone seemed to think was the dearest thing ever to be born.

Much cooing ensued from, well, everyone and little Ashleigh became very jealous. And it didn't seem to help that people gave him attention even after the novelty of a new baby should have worn off. At three months he was diagnosed with epilepsy at a year it became obvious that he was developing abnormally, speech and walking and such all too far advanced, the doctor just said he was gifted. Her father was thrilled.

When he was two he was attacked by two men and became quite adverse to human contact from that point on.

When he was three Ashleigh pushed him out of a firth storey window. Babies and toddlers are said to bounce and that was probably the only reason he survived, albeit with two broken wrists a crushed collar bone and all means and manor of internal injuries. Her father took him to st. Mungos where he yelled at her and then her step mother yelled at her and then they both doted on the injured toddler. When he grew up he would forever be desperately afraid of heights.

At four he was kicked in the head by a shire house and didn't say a word for a year afterwards, not until at five he contracted bacterial meningitis, he nearly died but at least his voice came back.

When he was seven, Ashleigh shoved him and hadn't meant for anything to happen but his eye caught the corner of a kitchen cupboard. They were new and pristine white and it was as though someone had taken a pot of red paint and splashed it up the side of the cabinet. Nathan's mother had blamed her and her father had defended her, two days later they filed for a divorce. Nathan was blind in his right eye after that. It was also after this that he stopped showing any signs of the magical prowess that he had before. Severus Snape had just shrugged and said 'maybe it was all just too much' but she could tell it upset him.

With her father and step mother living apart Nathan wasn't their all the time, she had more time with her father and as she matured begin to like her little brother more to boot. She didn't like him by any means but she had to admit that he was amusing at times. Being older (and a good deal scarier than him) meant that often he would follow her around like a kicked puppy and this satisfied her to no end.

At 16 she left school and joined the army, at 20 she came back a bonafide hero, her brother was 14 and had so much love for her, such pride in his eyes and that's when, for a short while, she had thought it would all be okay.

For the next four years they would be close friends and when her son was born Nathan would sit and hold him and coo over him and offer to babysit when she was missing Toby, still in the army. This didn't last. At that age she was working hard, she had seen a lot and she was tired and stressed all the time trying to build up her business, Nathan was bring and eccentric and a breath of fresh air.

When he was 16, his mother died of breast cancer and two years later, a scant few months before Nathan's 18th birthday, came the death of their father. Nathan especially had a hard time with it, still practically a child with no job, no chance at education as he found himself having to drop out and find work, a mortgage on the very house he was living in and no way to pay it and no support from anyone he found himself quickly bordering on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Ashleigh was too busy brooding and simultaneously trying to look after her brand new baby to realise the state things had left her brother in and at the funeral they argued. Out of spite she used her influence to get him fired from the job he'd managed to procure and he didn't talk to her again not until a few years later when his name cropped up on the front page of The Independent with an article called 'I Will Not Comply to Society's Norms and Conditions'.

That had been one of the first sentences both of them had ever learnt to say, painstakingly taught to them by their father and thoroughly embraced by her liberal minded brother. She flagged him down, found him with a little boy all of his very own and no wife and their tenuous relationship began anew. But now she had the luxury of money, and with that, of being light and easy with her life and he was the one who was stressed, tired, desperate to make ends meet and suffering from bouts of depression.

They clashed with everything, he called her a sadist she called him a hippy they frequently began to argue and only a grudging respect for one another kept them on speaking terms.

Then she began this war and realised that she had long ago stopped loving him and well, why not finish the job she'd already botched up twice. He was nothing but a nuisance to her now. The first time she'd pushed him out that window it had been planned in so far as her childish brain had thought 'well I might as well just make him go away' and seized the opportunity when she saw it. The shooting the other day had been in annoyance and frustration and she hadn't considered what she was doing at all.

This time it was thought out, yes, that was indeed the way he deserved to go.


	22. Keep it in the family

The light was so low in the room, curtains pulled roughly to so that the only source of illumination was the thin band of gold seeping in under his door from the light still on on the landing. Nathan's head was pounding, nothing had happened yet but it had been three days since he'd let the other man know that Gringotts was the most likely target, he hoped they'd been able to secure it.

It was 4:30, or so his watch read, he could only guess at the time the day and the season. He was meeting with the editor of the Independent later that day and he knew what he'd say "We'll print the article but, damn it Snape, sort yourself the hell out." It's what the man always said, not to be mean but, well, in the editors defence Nathan always promised "I will." and it was always a lie.

The streets were roaring with life outside, did the traffic ever stop in London? Not as far as he was aware. But it was a comfortable noise, he had long ago stopped being able to sleep without the cities back ground hum.

A car outside screeched to a stop, not a strange thing in itself but only minutes later came a knock at the door and he knew without a shadow of a doubt who it was. At the door, as expected was Ashleigh.

"Hey."

"Hey." she replied. "Do I get to come in?" he stepped aside and she walked into the second floor flat and into Nathan's office-cum-bedroom.

"Why are you here? Can I get you anything?" he asked, focused more on scooping up his article and shoving it into a draw and tidying away his desk.

"Umm, no, cheers, I figuring on killing you actually." His head snapped up, his lips pressed tight and thin together and his face loosing colour. The article crumpled under his fingers. "Don't worry, I've thought about it, planned, this isn't spur of the moment, I thought you deserved that dignity at least."

"I'm not going to be able to stop this am I." she heard his voice quaver mid way then quickly firm again and she shook hierhead. With a quick nod of his own he crossed to the office door closed it firmly and clicked the lock into place. One hand resting on the lock, the other on the door panelling beside his shoulder he asked into the quiet.

"What about Simon?" she slumped her shoulders with an incredulous look and rolled her eyes.

"Oh God Nat! What sort of person you take me for, I'm not going to kill my own nephew, I _adore_ that lad!" He turned his hard eyes to her. "I promise!" she exclaimed. "I'll look after him Nathan." her voice was solemn and sincere and he gave a shaky nod and moved to sit in his chair in front of his desk. He bit his nails and asked 'How?' and she answered "Poison... it's some 19 years old Nate."

"Dad?" he asked meeting her eyes with an open gaze and she smiled back at him.

"Yeh."

He laughed under his breath and bobbed his head in acquiescence. "Yeh... appropriate." he held out his hand and she undid her briefcase and passed the vial to him. There was her wand in there as well, as though she's been preparing for the worst. "How long."

"20 minutes, quite painless until the end." he downed it in one and pulled a face at the taste.

"Disgusting."

"Really, looks like honey."

"Tastes like shit, pass me some gum, in my coat pocket over there." she crossed to the hook on the wall where his coat hug and dug in his pocket for the toothpaste tasting stick. She threw it to him and he deftly caught it. "You know, I always thought you'd be the one to kill me." he said so matter of factly as he unwrapped the breath mint and she thought she could hear a hint of approval in his voice that she hadn't disappointed him.

"See, now I thought we'd always destroy one another." she joked.

"Don't be so sure we won't." her gaze grew momentarily worried.

"There's no way this could be traced back to me."

"My dear little girl, I would be quite dissatisfied with you if there was one."

"You're depressed, they'll figure it was suicide." he nodded his head.

"Yes, I'm sure they will... Simon?"

"I'll come up with something." she swore fiercely to him.

"But not the truth?"

"No."

"Good, you need to promise me you'll look after him."

"I will."

"Promise me."

"I promise Nathan... 10 minutes."

"Yeh..." he could faintly hear the tick, tick, tick of his watch hands as they walked in little circles around its face, he removed it and threw it in the trash. "I always did hate wearing a watch, you better not freaking let them bury me with one." She laughed and grinned.

"I won't. And hey, you know, if you see dad down there..."

"I'll tell him you say hi." he thought about it and then began to laugh "Hey, what do you mean _down there_ you cow."

"Well, you know-"

"You bloody traitorous Jew." he tittered

"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm of God's chosen people and you're just a catholic." she exclaimed holding her hands up to fend him off his mock accusations. They grinned at one another and it was like it had been in those few years before their father died. Both smiles reached both pairs of identical black eyes, then both gazes lapsed away and Severus Snape's children, one waiting to die, the other waiting for him to do so, lapsed into silence.

Perhaps there was a minute left when Nathan's bitten nails began to gouge crescent shaped holes in the arms of his chair. "Hurts." he murmured so quietly that she hardly heard it. Ashleigh crossed the room to him and perched on the arm of his chair, he buried his face into the side of her chest and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brushed back his hair from his face.

He released his death grip on his chair and replaced it in the material at the back of her shirt, clutching at her desperately.

"Make sure Simon knows I love him." his breath came in pants through gritted teeth but she was impressed that he didn't cry out, never even whimpered, his voice didn't even falter.

"Always, baby boy." his mother used to call him that, she could remember it vividly: their father had a name for him too... she couldn't recall what that one was, it wasn't a normal endearment, only between the two of them.

She heard his breath hitch in and his arms went loose around her waist. She clung onto the body tight: she couldn't remember the goddamn name.

- - - - -

Right so their should be three chapters left I think, don't hold me to that, could be a few more. Please tell me what you thought of this chapter, the two of them did love one another once upon a time.


	23. the editor

The next attach had happened and it had happened as expected, or at least, as Mr Snape had told them to expect it, Gringotts had been attacked and by missile, a powerful one, if it wasn't for the wards a lot more people would be dead, that was for sure, Harry included. As it was he was missing his leg from Kneecap down and the mediwizard had informed them that his ears would stop ringing in an hour or so after filling them with a thick gloopy white salve.

His bruises and cuts had been fixed up but he was still unconscious. It was hermione and Ginny who sat by his bedside. Ron had a job to do.

Ron double checked the number when nobody answered yet again and when the phone continued to ring and ring he slammed it down and found somewhere safe to apparate.

17 Sarah Street was an apartment on the 2nd floor of a block of flats in the middle of London. Not expecting there to be anyone around except for the reporter Ron apparated straight into the front room of Nathan Snape's flat.

"-I tell you he wouldn't do that!"

"Look Mr, the man suffered from clinical depression-"

"Fuck it! You idiots know about as much about that boy as a retarded bull frog and _further more _he was _renown_ for stirring up shit..."

Thank fully, Ron had apparated to a point near the corner of the room. He could see those muggle auror things, what were they called: pollicks!... or something, crowding in another room leading off from the one he was in. His own room contained two men yelling, both two intent upon one another to notice his sudden appearance and a boy, about James' age, who looked nearly the spit of Severus.

His skin was fairer than his father's (more white than olive though perhaps not as sallow as Severus Snape's) his eyes were black with heavy brows drawn together in a frown over them, his hair was like coal in colour and long down to his shoulders (though lacking in Severus Snape's customary grease) and his nose was... roman (Ron didn't think it would be fair to call a child big nosed... maybe he'd grow into it, his father's nose wasn't large after all).

The difference was the glasses, thick framed and slipping down his nose and a smattering of freckles that stood out against the fair skin covering his high cheekbones.

The boy was watching him! Ron realised with a start. He was staring at Ron, standing like an idiot in his corner, with those big black eyes that were slowly leaking tears down the slim cheeks. If not for those tears Ron might not have realised he was upset at all, his face was otherwise quite emotionless.

Seeing as how the boy hadn't jumped or seemed shocked by the presence of Ron in his lounge he guessed the boy was a wizard and stepped further into the room.

"Could someone please tell me what's going on?"

"A murder!" The burly yelling man exclaimed.

"It was not a murder, it was a suicide!" the exasperated 'pollick' sighed. "Sir, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave." he addressed Ron.

"I'm sorry, I'm Mr Weasley, I was meant to be seeing a Nathan Snape today, are you telling me that he's dead, by whatever means?"

"Yes sir, I'm very sorry for your loss, did you know him well?" He hardly heard the words and he certainly didn't care. Dead, he was dead, their best (only) informant was gone. Fuck.

He walked out the front door, slammed it behind him and apparated away.

- - - - -

Mr Weasley had been a wizard, that was obvious and he hadn't seemed best pleased at the news that his dad was dead, but neither had he seemed upset, more... angry.

He hated that none of these people cared... maybe the editor, but he was decent. Twenty minutes more of the man arguing with the officer and the cop told him he'd have to leave, as he stormed to the door mumbling about imbeciles Simon jumped up and darted after him.

"Excuse me, sir?" The angry man turned around then softened when Simon came closer and rested his hand on the dark haired boys shoulder.

"What can I do for you lad?"

"I've got the article... the one my dad was going to give you today, if you still want it?" the editor nodded and removed his hand from the slender shoulder to hold it out expectedly. Simon took a folded square of paper from his pocket (he'd tried to smooth out the wrinkles from his father's grip) and passed it to the editor who opened and read the headlines!

"Well fuck! I think we have her." the large man gave a bark of dry laughter and dropped onto one knee so that he know had to look up slightly to Simon rather than down. "Lad, you just remember that your father was a fucking good reporter, 'scuse my French, and that he may have just damn well made a difference in this world." He reached up to smooth the pad of his thumb over a drying tear trail. "Don't cry, it's pointless, he knew that, you should to. Right now, lets see if you can't be as good at solving things as he was. I'm telling you your daddy was murdered, forget the shit those men are feeding you about some bullshit suicide, I knew your dad, worked with him a long time, he wouldn't leave you. Now, you come back when you're 18 and tell me something on this case that no one else knows and I'll give you a job. Right? Good."

He stood up, gave the headline another look and followed it with another dry bark as he walked away. "You fucking got her." he mumbled as he left.


	24. Through

His head hurt. And he couldn't stand their talking, it all sounded muffled and strange and only served to make his head ache and he couldn't make out the words anyway.

It was a day. One day since the attack on gringotts, a day since the Blair girl said to tell everyone to leave. A day since Ron came back with a face like thunder and said that Snape's son was dead.

He hadn't seen the children yet though he'd written them a letter saying 'don't worry, I'm fine and i'll be home soon' but Ginny hadn't left his bedside. He'd woken up this morning to find her crying by the side of his bed. She said 'it's nothing, I've just got something in my eye' but it was an obvious lie.

Some of the other aurors, ones who hadn't been at Gringotts, had come to ask him questions and he'd made sure to tell them to alert the muggle authorities that Blair was dead and to tell them to tell Sullivan where her body was. Most of the bodies were gone by now, taken away by friends and family, hers was one of the few still in the basement of the town hall-cum-makeshift hospital that Harry and a few more of the 'important' casualties had been brought to.

On the 12th of December, eight days after this had all begun, at three in the afternoon a white faced, big nosed, glasses wearing woman rushed through the doors of the town hall. One of the mediwitches said 'may I help you ma'am?' and her head snapped towards her her eyes unfocused.

Her lips worked uselessly for a moment then she said. "Blair, Blair Sullivan... they said her body-" she broke off but the mediwitch took pity and sent someone to go and get the right body.

Harry knew who she was, he'd seen her pictures, printed off from the internet. He would of jumped up and hit her one if not for the fact that he had one leg. Thankfully his wife had realised who she was as well. Ginny jumped up, grabbed the slim woman's shoulder to tug her round to face her and punched her square in the face.

There was a definite crack as the fist connected with Sullivan's nose and she stumbled backwards her eyes were no longer dull but vivid and furious and she drew her hands away from her nose, wiping streaming blood away with her sleeve and lunged at Ginny. At that moment the man sent down to the basement for the body came back up and the sheet fell away from Blair's ruined head and Sullivan gave a wail and promptly collapsed backwards.

Ginny caught the other woman who held onto the redheads arm to keep from sinking to the floor, her whole body was quaking and she was making these awful animalistic whines in the back of her throat but she couldn't draw her eyes away from the body.

Ginny didn't have the heart to let her go.

- - - - -

Tobias knew, as his brother in law had known, that his wife was not brave. But unlike Nathan ('may he rest in peace' the man murmured as he thought this) he knew that his wife was no fearless. She was terrified. The absolute and all consuming fear of a mother for her children and when he stepped into that room to see his daughters bloody boy and his wife's wretched one he couldn't help but feel a flare of anger.

"Good Lord man, cover her up for pities sake!" He yelled. Tobias Sulliven had been a general in the army once and that came with the ability to yell in such a deep and booming voice that all the eyes in room (minus his wife's but she had never once in her life been scared of him anyway) turned fearfully to him and the sheet was quickly (and with massive care in the face of such a bear-like man) pulled back of Blair.

"Toby-" Ashleigh's voice cracked and she turned those wide scared eyes on him and he felt his heart might burst with the quantities of love that flooded back into it, he could never dislike her for long, no matter what she did.

He pried his wife's hands of Ginny's arms and she wrapped them round him and broke into sobs against his chest.

"S'okay, s'okay," he crooned. "It'll be alright." How many birthdays would she have otherwise had? he wondered.

"You bombed a school!" Ginny screamed regaining herself.

"Our daughter's just died!" Toby yelled back.

"Yes and it was your fault." Hermione said from the door. Her husband had an arm wrapped around her shoulders and in his hands he held a copy of The Independent.

Hermione took it out of his hands and passed it Tobias. He read the first paragraph and sighed, his eyes slipping closed. "Game's up, Ash," he looked down at the article detailing all of his sister's meddling in the wizarding world, from the very simple fact that she was a witch to stories of her use of the avada kedavra curses used to get rid of meddlesome competitor's. "I think your brother may have just made his winning move."

He tried to make her look but not even an elephant stampede could have made her lift her head from Toby's chest. Sullivan was quite thoroughly through.


	25. Severus

Sulliven had not really been through. On the day of Blair's funeral she had cried for the first time in nearly 20 years, the first time since Severus' death. Then she met with Harry and they made a truce.

Her world was not entirely favourable to believing the last testament of a liberal dead man and her dignity power and influence remained pretty much intact but she did withdraw from fighting wars, there was implicit pressure enough after revealing fact that she was a witch to cause her to tactfully withdraw into her company and making the weapons rather than controlling them- not that she couldn't but she didn't have the same love, the same adoration and hero worship as before, she thought it safer to back off for a while.

Harry's injury and inability to save the wizarding world from _muggles_ did similar damage to his reputation and now with one fake leg he had to leave most of the practical work to fitter men. But like Sullivan he still had ability to control things from the sidelines, to strategise and wage wars should he choose to.

Neither of them were ruined but neither of them were looked upon the same again either.

The truce they made was simple, muggles had attacked wizards once and had caused far fewer deaths than any of the incidents when wizards had chosen to attack muggles, therefore, she reasoned, Ashleigh was not going to allow her world to be held accountable. So she swore to keep the muggles out of magic and Harry promised to keep witches and wizards out of the muggle world's dealings, but, if per chance, another like Grindelwald or Voldemort, or even Sulliven should arise and one world attack the other, they, each of them, had full rights to instruct their worlds to fight back.

They didn't shake on it, neither of them particularly wanted to touch the other, no matter how childish it might seem, so they signed an agreement, once with pens, once with magic, so the contract would fit both worlds.

Ashleigh adopted her nephew and changed his last name to Sulliven. At her brother's funeral she took Simon with and showed him two graves, his father's, the headstone of which read ' "I will not comply to society's norms and conditions" He lived by this and so it killed him.' along with his name and dates, and then she showed him his grandfather's. Severus Snape had been buried in the very same graveyard though some way away from the younger Snape.

His grave simply said 'I was somebody. Who, is no business of yours'.

- - - - -

Harry was applying for a job, he was bored of paperwork of strategies without action of carefully laid plans that he couldn't be there to see through. It was six months after he'd met Ashleigh Sulliven now and he was going up the spiral staircase to headmistress McGonagall's office. He had been told just to wait in their for her, that she'd be up momentarily, so that's what he was doing.

For the first time in nearly 20 years he stepped into Dumbledore's old office and looked around. "My, my what have we here, surely we are too old for trips to the headmistresses office Potter." Harry looked up into the cold, familiar eyes of Severus Snape and for the first time in 6 months he smiled.

- - - - -

The End! Thank you all for coming along for the ride, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

For anyone who liked the characters of Ashleigh and Nathan and would like to see them when they were younger they were first dreamt up for the story Summer with Snape which is set in a slightly different world to this as this is DH compatible where as they other doesn't even fit with HBP.

But it's the same family that I use here that I use in that one as well so go and check it out if you will! I'm looking for 50 reviews before I put up chapter 4 and I'm so nearly there I can taste it.

Oh! And just a tidbit that I didn't manage to get into this, Blair's middle name is Severus, Blair Severus Sulliven, and she's called Blair because Ashleigh wanted her to be a witch and has a sense of humour.


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